DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate: Atlantis.

Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions.

I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).

AUTHOR'S NOTE/Warning: Well, guys. Here's the next chapter. Like the name implies, things are getting stormier. So I should warn you that the next few chapters are going to show, why exactly this story has an M rating. There will be violence, blood and other things that are probably not to everyone's taste. You have been warned. Other than that: Have a good time reading and give me some feedback! Oh! And the Alteran language here is Latin that I changed around a bit. So if anyone of you knows Latin – and I learned it for a few years – keep in mind that Latin is a derivative of Alteran, so Alteran can and should be a bit different. In my story it is.


Chapter Eleven

The Storm

The Second Great Alliance. God! He was fucking good! He was The MAN! He was just so great, so abso- fucking-lutely amazi-…

"Still praising yourself, Jack?" Her amused voice came from behind. He glanced at her, taking in the comfortable jeans, the sexy-as-hell red shirt, her tousled hair, and gave her a shit-eating grin.

"I just love it when a plan comes together." He nodded in satisfaction, before continuing to appreciate the sight of her in that outfit. She looked beautiful, good enough to eat, in fact. Lazily, Jack made a `c'mere` gesture and settled her over his lap, enjoying the feel of her above him and taking pleasure in her sparkling, blue eyes.

He didn't deny it. Jack O'Neill was definitely on top of the world today. But, he mused, perhaps that was excusable. It was not every day that a galaxies-spanning alliance was established, especially not such an important one as the Great Alliance of the Four – now Five! – races. And it was definitely not every day that most of the accomplishment could be attributed to him.

He remembered how he had first met Thor and the Asgard almost more than a decade ago. It was there, on their old homeworld in the Ida galaxy, that he had first gotten a hint, a premonition of the Tau'ri fate. So many things had happened since then. Defeating the System Lords, dealing with other civilizations, falling hopelessly in love with his Second. It had been an eventful time, but it had also been the best time of his life.

"I just can't believe that we did it, Sam. We are the Fifth Race."

She smiled softly at him, stroking his hair and leaning a bit forward, relaxing against him.

"I know how much this means to you, Jack. You worked relentlessly towards this."

"I honestly never thought that they would do this now." Seeing her curious look, he elaborated. "I mean, I knew that my frequent meetings with Thor and Lya would someday bear fruit. I hoped that they would acknowledge us like this given our close relationship in the past few years, but that they would do it so soon…I didn't expect it somehow."

They were silent for a time, only their breathing noticeable in the morning air. It were moments such as these which he cherished the most. Him and Sam, both at peace with the world and themselves, with no imminent crisis on the horizon.

Straining up, he kissed her neck, nibbling at the soft flesh. She tasted like cinnamon, apples and sunlight.

"I'm glad we did this." That we helped Atlantis and their people, our people. It was a silent add-on, but one that she heard nonetheless.

"Me too."

And no matter what happened next, whatever threat would rise from the depths of the galaxy, today the two of them would relax. Relax and bask in their accomplishments. Earth was safe. Their lost people were found. After more than a decade of heartache, both of them were together. Everything was alright.


Parking the car in front of a very large, very beautiful house, John asked himself repeatedly what he was doing here. The villa – and that's essentially what the mansion was – had been built with the classical European palaces and country homes in mind. Huge, white columnsencircled the front of the house, giving it a majestic flair. It looked like something George Washington or Abraham Lincoln would have lived in hundreds of years ago. And it made John more than uncomfortable.

Approximately thirty minutes outside of D.C., his brother's home was in a very high-end neighborhood. Strangely enough, most of the people who lived there were those who worked for the military or were otherwise somehow involved with the government. Considering his brother's distaste for such things, John didn't really understand what had driven him to buy something like this.

Sighing deeply, he smiled slightly when Elizabeth squeezed his hand in reassurance. She knew how he felt about this. Over the long years as leaders of Atlantis, both of them had slowly but surely sought understanding and comfort from each other. It had been a gradual process, but, in the end, there had been no secrets left between them. Just as she had told him about the times she had been held hostage during a diplomatic mission in South Africa, he had confided in her his turbulent relationship with his father and brother. Neither of them had ever supported him in his decision to join the Air Force and he sincerely doubted that their attitude had changed any.

He got out of the car, helping Aras and Elizabeth out of it, and stared for a moment at the front door, before finally deciding that he was ready for whatever might come. This was only a BBQ, after all, and Jenny would be there, too, along with some other family members and friends. It could not be that horrible.

Of course, it didn't matter one way or the other, he mused. The family he considered truly his in his heart was almost completely on Atlantis. It was enough. He was no little boy anymore, not the shy eighteen-year old, who had stood before his parents, trying to explain his wish to fly for the military with only his uncle as support.

The door opened and the first thought in John's mind was that Dave had not changed in the years that had gone by. He had lighter hair than John, a boyish face that had always been a chick magnet and was impeccably dressed in designer clothes. All things considered, his brother had remained the same.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group, before Elizabeth finally decided that enough was enough. He had seen her do similar things in the past, mostly with foreign dignitaries. It was a necessary evil. There had been times over the years that John had not been able to play nice with others, particularly with the Genii delegation that had negotiated the peace treaty with Atlantis. Of course, nobody could fault him for that. Any husband would have been slightly upset, if not downright murderous, to have to deal with the people, who almost put a bullet through his wife's head. Elizabeth being a born and learned diplomat had been a godsend in those moments.

Now it was the same. His grudges against his blood family were sadly not forgotten and definitely not yet forgiven. John knew that he was too stubborn to make the first step, especially if he was the one not at fault here. So Elizabeth's intervention was indeed very welcome.

She had plastered on her polite diplomat's smile, he acknowledged silently, with a little bit of her natural charm thrown in. It was a combination that conquered even the most difficult of personalities, he knew.

"You must be Dave." She held out her hand in welcome. "I'm Elizabeth, John's wife. He's told me so much about you!"

It was apparently enough to pull both brothers out of their stupor.

"Hopefully only good things." Dave smiled charmingly, shaking the offered hand and inviting them in. "And this is?"

"My son Aras, Dave."

"Didn't know you had a son, John." His brother replied somewhat bitterly.

"You don't know a lot of things."

The inside was as opulent as the outside. A small but richly decorated entrance hall led through a side door into a very big living room with leather couches and oak bookcases. On the far side of the room a slide door opened to the back porch.

"Elizabeth! John!" The voice of his favorite cousin called from outside. They followed Dave out onto the back porch. It was a big backyard, not quite a meadow, though one could see that whoever was responsible for tending to the trees and the little garden that was situated on the left side had tried to give everything a touch of wilderness. Somehow, it reminded him of Jack O'Neill's backyard. He had only been there once, before he accepted a position on the Expedition. They had sat on the steps of the porch, drinking Guinness and talking about life in general and the SGC in particular. It had not felt like talking to a general, but a friend. There had been comfort and lightness there. Despite the resemblance here, he could not help but feel tense and on edge.

"Hey, Aras!" Jenny smiled down at the boy, ruffling his hair in greeting and receiving a fully fledged grin in return. She was dressed comfortably in blue jeans and an emerald cashmere sweater, looking both relaxed and happy. It had been her idea for him to come to the barbeque, though he doubted that it would do anything against his estrangement from the family.

"Hey, Aunt Jenny!"

"So, John, have you already seen your father?"

The question was asked casually, but he knew it was anything but. Glancing around covertly, he could not see him. There, sitting in one of the garden chairs was his Aunt Ruth, a round little woman in her seventies, talking with his cousin Rebecca, the daughter of his mother's sister Jessica. He had never been fond of either of them. Ruth had always wanted to set him up with what she called `upstanding young women` and Rebecca was as anti-military as they came.

Standing around in little groups, he recognized a few of his father's business friends and some other cousins, aunts and uncles, but no father. Of course, somehow his brother had disappeared during their conversation with Jenny. Probably to warn his dad that the lost son had finally come home.

"I'll take the silence as a no." She squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. "He's at the grill. Go talk to him. I'll take care of Aras and Elizabeth, introduce them to people. Don't worry, John." And with that she softly pushed him into the direction of the grill.

It was a massive grill and he could smell the delicious scents of cooked hamburgers and steaks even from here. Standing with his back to him was a tall man, his hair grey and his shoulders slumped over his work. John remembered that Patrick Sheppard had always liked doing barbeques. On Sundays they had sat together in the garden and grilled spare ribs, chickens and whatever else they had come up with. It was one of the few times he had been truly happy as a child.

Strolling lazily towards the man, his body deceptively relaxed, he stopped a few feet from his father.

"So you finally came home." Came the bitter greeting.

"Hello, father."

The reply was made confidently and with a calm he had never been able to gather before, when confronted with Patrick Sheppard. Apparently, it was enough for the man – his father! – to turn around and inspect him.

Silently, John wondered what his father saw. Did he look upon him and still see the young boy who had sat on his knees, giving him a child's love and trust? Or did he see the young man, who had stood against him, willing to fight for his dreams? Now, after so many experiences, after so many downfalls, after Atlantis, he was not like that anymore. Seeing his friends fall victim to the Wraith, to war, to the harsh life of Pegasus, he had matured immensely. He had become a leader, sure of himself and his decisions, certain of the path his life was taking. A large part of that was thanks to Elizabeth. She had made him better, helping him discover things about himself he had never known before. Now, looking at the face of his father, so similar to his own, the same ears, the same stubborn expression he sometimes recognized on himself, he did not feel fear. He was no longer afraid of disappointing his dad, of not being good enough. John Sheppard finally knew his place in the universe.

Perhaps something had shown through his impenetrable mask, because his father's blue eyes glimmered shortly with regret, before returning to their usual disappointed gaze.

"Jenny tells me you married again." He stated gruffly.

John nodded, taking one of the cool beers from a side table and gulping some of it down. The pleasant bitterness soothed his stomach, making the churning bearable.

"Elizabeth is a wonderful woman."

"As was Nancy."

John grimaced. This was definitely not the time to talk about his ex-wife and certainly not with his estranged father.

"You know why it didn't work out." Even estranged, John had still invited his father and brother to his first wedding.

"And this does? Does your wife know what you're doing? Is she OK living with Major John Sheppard?"

"It's Lieutenant Colonel, dad." John corrected. "And, yes, she does know. She knows everything."

The surprise in his dad's face was evident. And he knew why. When he had been married to Nancy, he had never told her about his work. Most of his missions were classified, but even if they had not been, he never would have told her. With Elizabeth, it was different. She was strong. Probably stronger than he was. There were and could be no secrets between them. The deep trust they had both cultivated had oftentimes saved their relationship and their marriage. It had allowed them to overcome difficult situations, to survive and thrive in a hostile galaxy. But he knew that Elizabeth had changed him fundamentally as well, in a way that Nancy had never been able to do.

"And, of course, you can't tell me why I've been told that you've been MIA, probably KIA, for years?"

"They must have told you about the guerillas…"

"Oh, come on, John!" His father's voice was steadily rising. In the end, he was nearly shouting. "Do you really expect me to believe this guerilla shit?"

An angry silence settled over them. John knew that he could not confirm anything beside the cover story and saying more was just unacceptable.

"Yes, I do."

"I hope you will finally leave the Air Force after this."

"You expect me to give up everything I worked for? Just like that?" John asked incredulously. He could not believe the man!

"Yes, I do! You were god knows where, playing with your guns and planes and your mother…" His hand swept through his hair, his shoulders tense with frustration and anger. "Your mother was always worrying about you. Then, when you were declared MIA…she could not live with it. You…you weren't even there at her funeral." His anguished voice trailed off. "Goddamn you, John!"

The pain speared his heart, spreading in his body like a virus, contaminating his thoughts, freezing his limbs. He had loved his mother above anyone else. She had supported him in his choices and she had been the only person beside Jenny he had been in constant contact with. It had been one of the few regrets he had, when he decided to accept a position on the Expedition. Now, hearing that his disappearance had somehow played such a role in her death…It was anguishing, painful beyond belief. But even with this knowledge, he would not do anything differently, he knew. With Atlantis he had found something he never had on Earth. Acceptance. Respect. Friendship. Love. Family. He could never give it up. Not for his late mother, not his brother or his father. It was a decision he was willing to make.

"Yes, I will go back, father. And nothing you can say or do will ever change that." He whispered brokenly. Turning around, he began slowly walking away, feeling the heavy gaze of his father behind him. Deep inside, he knew that his father loved him, despite any disagreement they might have had, but even that love could not shake his resolve. He was not the little boy who needed protection anymore. He was Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, leader of Atlantis, husband of Elizabeth Weir and father to Aras. His future was on Atlantis and not on Earth.


He leaned back in his seat, feeling his old bones and muscles painfully. Finally, he was home. Over the last few years the large house almost felt like his old one in Colorado Springs. His grandchildren visited him as often as possible, especially since the girls had started college a year ago. Tessa was there more often, of course, because she studied Linguistics and Archaeology over at Georgetown University. Kayla, though, had remained in Colorado Springs, deciding to follow in her grandpa's footsteps and become an Air Force officer. George was immensely proud of both of them. Somehow, it seemed, he had been able to influence them positively. And having SG-1 over almost all the time when he had still been commander of the SGC had helped fan Tessa's passion for history and languages. He remembered how proud Daniel had been that his favorite protégé was following him into his chosen field.

Daniel. He was on Atlantis with Teal'c. George was well aware why Jack had left both of them behind to try and better their relationship with the lost city. Daniel Jackson was an exceptional personality, having the ability to easily integrate himself into any social group, to become a friend to even the most suspicious of people. And Teal'c? If somebody could recognize the problems that could and would inevitably come up with different people – races – that lived together, having different mentalities and, from what he had heard, a slightly martial world view, then it would be Teal'c.

Now, after Atlantis' status was decided, the only thing standing in the way of a few waves of colonists going to the Pegasus galaxy was the signing of the Tau'ri/Lantean treaty. It would take some weeks to iron out the wording, but he was sure that both Atlantis' and Earth's diplomats would make it a priority.

Unfortunately, as Head of Homeworld Security, that left him with a lot of work and consequently a massive headache.

Sighing, he stood up, going over to a huge cupboard made of oak and opened it. Taking a small metal box out, he turned around and settled comfortably behind his desk once more. The box itself would have been pretty unremarkable, had there not been strange symbols engraved on it. It was a security measure and a pretty effective one.

Generally, only those who knew about the Stargate program would even recognize that these were all the constellations which could be found on the gate.

Knowing what to do, he swiftly pressed Earth's gate address, his fingers automatically choosing from the thirty-nine possibilities until he finally pressed the symbol of a pyramid with a circle above it, Earth's point of origin. A low hum could be heard for a moment, the symbols glowing a soft ocean blue, before the box opened.

Inside, there was only one thing: a gray ball, fitting perfectly into the palm of a hand.

"Establish connection. Hank Landry, Commander of the SGC, Stargate Command, Sol Sector, Earth."

The ball beeped, then glowed green, before slowly rising slightly into the air and projecting the familiar visage of General Hank Landry above it.

A mixture of Goa'uld and Asgard technology, the little communication device had been developed by the R&D Department of Gamma to guarantee a secure line of communication. These interstellar cell phones had a decent range and could even reach the Beta or Gamma Sites with their signal.

"Hello, Hank."

"George." The other nodded back in greeting. George had discovered a long time ago that he liked the no-nonsense general. Being the direct CO of him and thus the one who Hank reported to, he had had to deal a lot with Landry. At first, George had been skeptical that Hank Landry was the right man to command the SGC. He knew his people and was well aware that compared to other commands, the SGC was certainly…unorthodox. And he didn't doubt that the year it had lived under one Jack O'Neill as commander had relaxed things further. SGC personnel were used to unusual solutions and even more unusual leading styles. Somehow, George thought, dealing with aliens, near-apocalypses and other bizarre things had made SGC people…well, not slightly mad, but definitely very peculiar in their attitudes and reactions. Jack, who had been part of the craziness from the very beginning, had no problem with that kind of thing and the SGC in return had accepted his leadership enthusiastically. He was one of their own, after all.

But Hank…sending a good but more or less by-the-book commander to the SGC…It had been a risky move, though, in the end, it seemed like Hank Landry had slowly adapted to the mad house.

"It went well." George finally said, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.

"No problems?"

"Well," he grimaced," the French and British delegates were a bit difficult. I think it unpleasantly reminded them of their lost colonies, especially the British with their non-existent Empire."

"What about the Russians?"

George snorted.

"Chekov didn't look particularly upset. I figure he was just glad that they won't have to pump a lot of money into Atlantis." He paused. "And he looked slightly enamored with Dr. Weir."

Hank's eyebrows rose at that.

"Hmmm…at least, we can't say that he doesn't have taste in such matters."

"No, indeed not." George half-smiled. Their relationship with the Russians had always been very unusual. After the Russians' own attempt at a Stargate program, they had compromised and now, after many years of rivalry, five to ten Russian SG teams were always going through the gate in Cheyenne Mountain. From what he knew, both Jack and Chekov had developed some kind of strange love-hate relationship with undertones of mutual respect. Seeing them interact with each other was always a special pleasure. "You probably already heard about Jack's stunt?"

"You mean the Asgard and the Nox?"

George nodded.

"It's all over the rumor mill. The Fifth Race." Hank paused. "That is very unexpected."

"I don't think even Jack was aware about their intentions and he would have been the first to know."

"But why now, George? I didn't think that the Asgard had sufficiently recovered from their war with the Replicators to get involved with the intergalactic problems. And the Nox have been in isolation for so long that some of us thought we'd never see them again."

"Who knows?" George shrugged, then poured himself some of the whisky that stood prepared on his desk and sipped a little, enjoying the taste and reclining in relaxation. "Their clone problems are still present, but I believe that the ancient Asgard they found some years ago gave them a direction to search in. Perhaps, they think that their answer is somewhere in the Ancient database of Atlantis. And the Nox? Along for the ride, maybe? Nevertheless, it's high-time that they did their part. We've been alone protecting our galaxy from all the enemies that seem to pop out of nowhere. With the System Lords, it had at least been predictable. Now, with all the crime syndicates and the minor Goa'uld vying for power…"

"You don't have to tell me." Hank interrupted. As Commander of the SGC he was at the forefront of the war against every alien threat. It were his SG teams out there.

"Still," George continued, "we will have a lot to do when the Tau'ri/Lantean treaty is implemented. How are the Prep camps going?"

"Good. The one in Area 51 is up and running. They're currently coordinating with our science department to finish the new course plan."

"Is there enough personnel for all camps?"

"Should be. The European prep camp at Lake Constance is almost finished and Shen Xiaoyi assured me that the last modifications to the Asian complex are mostly completed."

The preparation camps were the necessary first step towards their planned colonization project. Initially, Beta was supposed to be the first Tau'ri colony in space. Now, with Atlantis reappearing, the colonization efforts would be divided between the Pegasus and Milky Way galaxies.

There were two stages in the preparation process. The first was conducted on Earth in the various prep camps. Area 51 had already taken on that role. It had been useless after most of the research had been shifted to the Gamma Site, though some was still done on Earth. In the highly secure complex new SGC personnel was trained. And now new colonists would be prepared there, given the opportunity to acclimate to the thought of space travel, aliens and the general state of the galaxy. Various scientists of the SGC held lectures about history, culture and technology of the universe at the complex. Soon Europe and Asia would be added to the mix. Inside the program, people had already begun to call it the Stargate Academy.

The second stage was done on off-world bases, both on allied and Tau'ri ones, to help people get used to places that were not on Earth and to cement the decision of living there or not.

Of course, most of these things had been done for years for a smaller amount of people. Now that there would be colonists, probably in the hundreds, making their way into outer space, larger facilities and better management was needed. And he had the pleasure to coordinate it all.

Slowly but surely, there would be a steady stream of new colonists leaving Earth. Many of those who were on the lists were retired SGC personnel with their families, others came from Witness Protection.

"That's good. With Atlantis added as a colony, we'll be needing those extra facilities." He paused. "On another topic…how's your problem child doing?"

"Believe it or not, he's actually getting better. After the last fiasco, I put him together with three experienced marines. They seem to mesh well. I think after he gave up on the idea of reuniting SG-1 and experienced some real missions, he's slowly settling. Might be even a pretty decent team leader, if he doesn't lose his head the next few years."

"I thought you considered placing him back on one of our ships? He was a good wing commander before he decided to play on the ground."

Hank shrugged.

"I'll see how it goes. I really have the feeling that this could finally be it. Otherwise…well."

"Understood. In the end, it's your decision. But remember that not every person is cut out for this kind of job, Hank."

"I know. I know." He sighed. "See you next week?"

"Next week."

Hank nodded and the call disconnected, the little communication device slowly drifting back into the box. Yes, things were definitely picking up speed. He was curious how this whole situation with the Lanteans would turn out, but until that he had a lot of work to do, security reports to read, budgets to manage, bases to coordinate. Sighing, he leaned back and rubbed his forehead tiredly. He was getting too old for this.


Elizabeth frowned as she glanced once again at the figure of her husband, who was still talking to an older gentleman she now knew to be his father. His shoulders were tense but his body seemed deceptively relaxed. It was a posture she had seen him in only in the most uncomfortable or dangerous of situations. It didn't bode well.

A hand on her arm startled her out of her concern. She turned, seeing Jenny Sheppard smiling reassuringly at her. It seemed like her distraction didn't go unnoticed.

"Don't worry about them." She waved her hand in a clear gesture of dismissal. "As long as I remember, those two were always at each other's throats. They'll rage a little bit and then cool down."

Or they'll feed their anger in silence until it erupts like an active volcano, which had put up with too much pressure for too long. She remembered the cold, raging hatred in John's eyes when he saw Kolya. The result of that confrontation had not been pretty in the least.

"Let's hope so." But despite her agreement, the doubt didn't leave her.

Deciding that for the moment there was nothing she could do to make things better, she turned her attention back to John's blood family. She had never even imagined that his family would be this big or this noisy. It seemed that every aunt, uncle or cousin was keen on finding out just what John had been up to and where he had gotten his brand-new wife and son from. For such a quiet and private man, his family was very…loud.

"And this is Seth. Jessica's son." The tall red-haired man grinned amicably, his blue eyes twinkling merrily and his youthful face practically glowing. Only the edge of a tattoo on his throat offset the image. Elizabeth reflexively repressed her shudder at the name. Seth. There was something decidedly disturbing in hearing a Goa'uld's name in conjunction with the young man's sunny disposition.

"So you must be John's wife and son, yes? Jen here told me that Coz married again. Welcome to the family!" He moved in to give her a brief hug, during which she tried her damnest not to tense or, worse, put him on the ground with a well placed punch. Sometimes, reflexes were a bitch.

Still, it was a far better reception than she got from some of the other members of the family. His brother had, while seeming not to actively dislike her, apparently decided to keep his distance. Others like his Aunts Emma and Ruth had ganged up on her to squeeze as much information out as they could get.

"Thank you." She replied to Seth. "It's good to finally meet John's family. He's told me so much about you!" Well, not really. But who counted? Right?

"Doesn't sound like John. He's never been the talkative type." Seth shrugged. "So, what's your job? And how did you two meet? Uncle Patrick told everybody that the Air Force folks said John was M.I.A. or something."

Inwardly sighing, she rattled off her cover story about South America, guerillas and being captured. Seth's wide eyes and an astonished sounding Oh were the only reaction she got and for a moment she wondered if he was truly that naïve, because he would have been the first one to believe the tale.

Anxiously, she looked over at John, who seemed to finally have finished with his talk. His face was calm, but fierce resolve shone in his eyes. What had they talked about? Despite appearances, she knew that he was anything but calm. Something unexplainable had changed in him. And she didn't know what. Perhaps he…

It speared through her like a jolt of electricity, making the hairs on her neck stand up. Her eyes began to dart around her, her hands tightening around Aras' shoulders. Something wasn't right. Something wasn't right at all!

But before panic could set in, training and reflex took over. Her breathing, for just a moment rapid and short, evened out, an eerie calm settling over her. Elizabeth's eyes met John's and she knew – just knew! – that he had felt the same thing. Smiling charmingly, one of her hands swept through her hair, making unnoticeable, small Satedan hand signs. They would not be seen as communication by anyone else and were one hundred percent secure.

How many?

Seven. He signed back quickly, his pace slowing down until he finally stood still before engaging his Aunt Ruth in a conversation. Two. House. Rest. Woods.

Nonchalantly, her gaze swept around, noticing the almost perfectly hidden men in the woods and two others on the roof of the house. Snipers. Shit. How could they have not noticed them, when they arrived here? Both of them always screened their surroundings. Cloaking devices perhaps?

What do? They were trapped in a fucking killing zone with John's whole blood family and friends present. Innocents. Collateral damage. And Aras. Good gods, Aras! Their son was in the middle of it all! There was no question who these people were here for and they wouldn't go without the Lanteans.

We separate. You West. I. East. Woods. Cover. Aras with Jenny. Meet in middle.

She nodded imperceptibly. Looking to the west, she saw the rose garden slowly giving way to the forest. The trees were tall and the underbrush thick, an ideal place for an ambush. It was dusk now. Darkness had seeped into the backyard and covered much of her surroundings in its blanket. Still, the trees would give her much needed cover from the snipers and the darkness was as much a boon to her as it was to her enemies. Feeling the reassuring weight of her weapon's holster at the small of her back and her trinium dagger strapped just above her boots, she once again put all the fears, doubts and uncertainties to rest, her mind achieving crystal clarity, where only survival mattered.

Looking down at Aras, she could see him glancing at her knowingly, his beloved green eyes darkened with wisdom. Of course! She should have known Ronon would teach him sign language. He had understood everything.

"Venio in periculum!" Aras murmured softly, switching to Alteran instinctively as he asked if they were in danger.

"Sanen." She replied affirmatively. "Hostisi. Tu nuntias Rodney. Abderen et exstinguen. Situs Genii."

Elizabeth only hoped he would be able to tell Rodney and the others about the situation and their orders. If he got out of here alive. No, Elizabeth! Don't think like that! Aras had survived the Worshippers, the death of his birth parents. He would get out of this, too.

"Amo, nia." He whispered, hugging her side briefly as she stroked his hair. I love you, mother.

Turning towards Jenny, Elizabeth noticed that, though Seth didn't seem like he had noticed anything wrong, Jenny certainly had. Their conversation had been both brief and soft, but it had still garnered the attention of the NCIS director.

"Jenny? Could I speak to you for a moment? Privately?" Her voice gave away none of the tension she felt. She shot Seth an apologetic look, but he only shrugged and walked away.

"Of course." She nodded, the concern still evident in her eyes.

"Good. I need you to take Aras and slowly make your way out of here, get in your car and drive somewhere safe for the night."

"Elizabeth…what is going on here?"

"I can't tell you. At least not now. Please, Jenny, if you care for John at all, you will do as I ask. Declare loudly that you want to get something for the BBQ you forgot to buy and that you'll take Aras. Say that you'll be right back."

Still frowning slightly, Jenny nodded, stretching out her hand to Aras, who grasped it without any hesitation. The red-haired woman smiled, as she called out to Dave.

"Hey, Dave! Aras here never had snow cones. I want him to try one. We'll be back soon. You need anything for the BBQ?"

"Some more chicken wings would be good!"

Jenny nodded and smiled at the loudly chattering Aras, who was telling her how much he wanted to taste a snow cone.

A huge weight lifted from Elizabeth's shoulders. Now, at least, Aras would not be in the thick of things here. She walked over to a table, taking a water bottle and drinking some of it. Her eyes met John's and she could see approval in them.

I do distraction. He signed. During her talk with Jenny, he had gone over to the grill and taken a plate with a big t-bone steak and some mashed potatoes to eat. One minute.

Without a care for the world, she slowly began moving towards the west side of the backyard, near a little garden shed. She was only in direct view of two of the hostiles. John had situated himself near the backdoor, probably intending to take a different route to the woods.

BOOM! The grill exploded in a shower of flames and sparks, rising high into the darkened night sky. Screams could be heard from the gathered BBQ members, shouts for a fire extinguisher making people run around, some on their cell phones already calling the fire department. In the tumult, she quietly slipped away, silently thanking her choice of clothing. Her dark-red shirt looked nearly black in the darkness and her jeans were comfortable to move in.

Smiling grimly, one of her hands grabbed her silenced firearm, the other her trinium dagger. Crouching, she slowly moved towards the position of the nearest of her opponents. Breathing evenly, she prepared herself for what she would have to do. Cold resolve spread through her body.

There he was! She put her gun away. Crouching behind a tree, his back to her, he was whispering into what appeared to be a mike.

"Operator. I do not see the targets! Instructions?" Waiting a moment, he silently nodded to himself.

"Confirmed."

The conversation was obviously over, as he began to stand up, probably intending to move to another position.

Now! With a quick, graceful move, she was upon him, holding a hand over his mouth and plunging the dagger with a soft grunt into his throat. His dark blue eyes stared shocked into hers, the surprise obvious in them, even in his last moments of life. She felt his blood trickling down her hand. Some of it had gotten onto her shirt, soaking it through. She probably nicked his carotid artery. The disgust she might have felt years ago was not there though, only cold calculation. Taking his mike, she placed it into her ear and moved on.


As soon as they got into the car and were moving, Aras abruptly stopped his chattering, his eyes turning serious and hard. His nia and darius were in trouble. Situs Genii. By the ancestors! This was bad. This was more than bad! Taking out the Lantean communicator he had gotten from his Uncle Rodney before coming here, he quickly pressed some buttons, ignoring the startled look of his Aunt Jenny.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity the concerned voice of his uncle was heard in the car.

"Aras? Aras! What's wrong?" The question was not surprising. Aras had only gotten a communicator for the case of an emergency.

"Avunc Rodney!" Again, in his agitation, he switched to Alteran. "Nia et darius in periculum sunt. Situs Genii!"

"WHAT?!"

"Situs Genii, Uncle Rodney! Abderen et exstinguen." he repeated again.

"Ok! I got it! I got it! Where are you, Aras?"

"We were at Uncle Dave's. Aunt Jenny is taking me to a secure location."

"Good. Stay there until I contact you."

The connection was cut abruptly. Aras sighed in relief. Uncle Rodney would do what was necessary. He was sure of it. Glancing at his new aunt, he saw one of her eyebrows raised in a disturbing simulacrum of his mother. Gulping, he didn't say anything. He knew that everything about the project, about Atlantis, was classified. And, as his father had explained, classified meant that nobody who didn't already know about it could know.

"So, Aras, would you mind telling me what this is all about? And why we are being followed?"

At that, he quickly turned around, seeing a dark vehicle driving fast towards them. He felt Aunt Jenny accelerate their car, passing by the normal traffic at an astounding speed.

"I can't!"

"In this situation, I think I have a right to know why your family appears to be in danger!"

But before he could answer her, he heard a gunshot vibrate through the air. Suddenly, their car swiveled. He could see Aunt Jenny swiftly losing control.

"Hold on, Aras! This could get rough!"

With a prayer to the Ancestors, he held on for dear life, hoping against hope that these vehicles had some kind of safety measures.


His breath came in short gasps, the pain in his shoulder pulsating through his whole body. Taking another gulp of air, he stood up from behind his cover of a massive rock and began shooting again.

He had taken out five of them and had come across some more who had probably fallen to Elizabeth's hand. But, goddamnit! He just had to run into one of the cut-off groups. And now he couldn't even move from this position without giving them a perfect target.

A pained scream – male – was heard from the direction of one of his attackers. He quickly peeked out and saw the figure of his wife taking one of them down. Pride filled his being. She had learned so much from him and though most of it was something he had never wanted her to know, it had been necessary and she had blossomed in spite of her initial refusal.

There was only one of them left, hidden behind a similar rock lining the small road they were at. Elizabeth was nearer to the target and he knew that it would be her job to take him out. With a yell, he sprang up giving her cover fire until she was near enough to their foe.

"I've got him!" She called a few seconds later.

He walked out, still on edge, cautious because of other possible cut-off teams. She looked tired, her face smeared with blood and dirt, her eyes clear but cold. Like a war goddess, she appeared out of the undergrowth, the silver trinium dagger glinting eerily in the moonlight. He probably didn't look any better, his shoulder throbbing from his wound, his whole body covered in blood, dirt and pain.

She walked quickly, coming to stand beside him and reaching up to pull him into a passionate kiss. Her lips, everything about her was trembling slightly. From adrenalin or fear. He didn't know.

"Aras?"

"Safe, hopefully. Did you get them all?"

"I hope so."

"What are y-" She sagged against him. For a moment, he didn't comprehend what had happened, not until he saw a man with a zat gun behind her. His last thought, before darkness claimed him, was of Aras. He could only hope that their son had escaped.